


How Important Are Names?

by weesynthpixie



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Sex, Barista Boy Ben, Begging, Ben's a little shit, Blowjobs, Bottom Kylo Ren, CEO Hux, Dirty Talk, Dom Hux, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, Hux is fed up with it, Hux loves the kylo tiddies, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Underage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tiddy Love, Top Hux, rough, sub kylo ren, when hux dirty talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7426558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weesynthpixie/pseuds/weesynthpixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux wakes up exhausted, goes to a Starbucks on a whim, meets an infuriating but incredibly beautiful barista boy named Ben, and decides he wants to have sex with him. Being the CEO of a major tech company, Hux is good at getting what he wants. And Ben is just his type.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Important Are Names?

**Author's Note:**

> *Throws this hunk of trash at ya'll*
> 
> This is my introductory piece to the kylux fandom. I hope you all enjoy this filth because I sure did. I hate these two so much they give me a headache but boy do they have really great sex. Also, I didn't think it was necessary to tag since I did tag with dom/sub, but I did want to put a small note here that Hux isn't particularly a friendly dom in this, and does put his pleasure/needs above Ben's. Which isn't safe dom/sub practices at all. So just be cautious if that's something you're not comfortable with. I tried to go over this with a fine-toothed comb for grammar errors, but, alas, we're all human so I apologize if there is some. 
> 
> Anyway go forth and be sinful my friends with these two jerks! 
> 
> Hux is his canonical age of 34 and Ben is 20.

Hux really hates his life. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the other night, too busy doing paperwork and signing the checks for all his employees to even think about it. He will admit until his dying day that he always has things under control, but right now everything in front of him on the road is going double and blurry, and he is definitely not in control. He sincerely thinks if he doesn’t get some caffeine he will surely crash his Cabriolet. 

He sneers when he spots the telltale green and white sign of a Starbucks. He deserves only the strongest, most effective coffee grounds from some exotic country. But exhaustion is clearly winning out when he pulls into a parking spot furthest away from the rest of the cars. He smooths his red hair back and straightens his suit jacket before heading inside. 

The lines are long as he expected. There’s a whole mixture of people inside all looking dead on their feet as they methodically pay and grab their coffee like they’re on some crude parody of a factory conveyor belt. Hux stays a good three feet away from the person in front of him as he waits. 

As soon as he gets to the front, he’s met with a boy probably no older than twenty giving him an unimpressed look as he waits for Hux to order. His face is asymmetrical, with beauty marks scattered about, and his hair is dark and wavy under the ridiculous Starbucks visor cap. He’s attractive in the weirdest way possible and Hux is only slightly disgusted with himself.

“Yes, I want a uh,” he squints at the menu behind the barista, “large….oh for god’s sake do you have anything that isn’t swimming in sugar?”

Barista Boy grimaces at Hux. “How the hell should I know? I hate this place.”

“Of course you do,” Hux says mildly. He continues to stare dubiously at the menu, hoping something will pop out at him that will be suitable for his needs. A significant line is starting to form behind him and people within ear shot are muttering rude things. Hux turns to glare them down and they all take one giant step back. What Hux lacks in muscle mass he makes up for in height and steely rage. 

Eventually he sighs. He’s too tired for this. “I’ll just take a large coffee.”

“Venti,” Barista Boy comments as he rings up the order.

“Come again?”

“What you mean is venti. We don’t use small, medium, and large.”

Hux feels his left eye twitch. 

“Your total will be $2.45. Name?” 

Hux shoves a credit card at the barista. The nerve of this brat. “Elan,” he says, deciding to go with his first name over his last. Usually he prefers everyone refer to him as “Hux” but clearly the exhaustion is messing with his mental faculties. 

“Elan,” says Barista Boy. Then he smirks. “Coming right up.” 

Hux glares at him and stands off to the side like everyone else as he waits for his coffee. He taps his foot impatiently and keeps glancing at his Rolex. He’ll be late for work at this rate if they don’t hurry up. And that’ll just bring morale down with his employees. Considering Hux is a very authoritative boss with a glare that can melt steel, his employees are surprisingly loyal to the company and do their job. And, of course, Hux makes sure their paychecks are fat, their benefits are decent, and he even makes sure to give his pregnant workers as much maternity leave as they need, despite what laws say. 

They just fear him is all. So they do their jobs. As it should be.

Another five minutes goes by before his name is called.

“Ellen?” says a short black girl. She gives a too bright smile when Hux storms over to grab his cup, ignoring the horrible pronunciation. Hux is just about ready to take a huge sip of the coffee when he notices the black sharpie printed on one side: “Eeeelen”

Hux sharply turns his gaze to Barista Boy. When they catch eyes, he has the biggest shit-eating grin Hux has ever seen. Then he clears his throat and breaks eye contact. Hux swears he can feel a blood vessel break inside his brain.

“Brat,” he whispers before storming out of the shop. 

As he gets into his convertible, he scowls at the coffee. It’s actually pretty good and he’s starting to feel much more awake. It pisses him off. 

~

When Hux comes home for the day, it’s clear he’s on a caffeine crash. His eyes are heavy and his body aches. He rubs his face with one hand as he sets his keys on a wall holder. He then toes off his work shoes, reveling in the softness of the carpet on his socked feet. Almost like a zombie, he bumbles his way to his answering machine.

There’s one message.

“Elan. It’s your father. I’m going to be in town this weekend. Make sure you don’t have any plans. Call me in the morning.” 

Hux rolls his eyes and leers at the answering machine before deleting the message. Brendol Hux is a take no prisoners man with a sinister brow and an even more sinister mind. He taught everything Hux knows about being successful in a business. Brendol Hux runs the largest tech company in Great Britain, so of course he’d know how to be successful. And Hux has always prided himself on being the best and making his way to the top. 

But right now he really doesn’t want to deal with his father. He wants to sleep for at least sixteen hours. Except…when he passes by his office, he sees the stacks of paper on the desk and hears his laptop humming softly. He stares with half-lidded eyes and sighs. Maybe over the weekend he can get drunk with his old man, and then he can get a decent night of sleep.

Next thing he knows, he’s waking up abruptly, face plastered to a wayward form that sticks to his sweat-slicked face. He rips it off and throws it across the room. He realizes he’s losing his cool and takes a deep breath, pushing his hair out of his face. Shower. Food.

And then coffee.

Two hours later he’s on the road, driving his familiar route to work. He spots the Starbucks he went to yesterday and only gives himself a second to debate before turning into the parking lot. As before, he parks his Cabriolet in the furthest spot from the shop before entering. The lines are just as long as last time, and he has to keep his annoyance in check as he waits. 

His phone rings.

The caller I.D. says “Brendol” and Hux clutches his phone tightly in his fist. He stares at the ringing device for a solid five seconds before answering. 

“Dad,” he says, then winces at the realization he called his father dad. He waits for the verbal lashing that’s usually accompanied when Hux addresses his father by the wrong name, but it never comes. He’s probably too busy having his employees lick his shoes to even bother correcting him. 

Hux blames his tiredness for his slip up and internally chastises himself for being so careless. 

“You forgot to call me,” he says in a stern tone. Hux frowns as he advances in line, then smacks a hand to his face. The answering machine message dammit. 

He recovers quickly. “Well, father, it is still morning if I were to calculate the placement of the sun and the fact that my head is about to explode from exhaustion, so I fail to see how I forgot.”

“Don’t you dare be a sarcastic little shit with me, boy.”

Hux clutches the phone tightly to his ear and takes a calming breath. But when he sees Barista Boy at the cash register once more, Hux flushes red with anger. He cannot deal with this today. Usually, Hux can handle his father with lots of empty promises and yearly reports on the successfulness of his business, Starkiller Corporation, but he’s very sleep deprived and the brat barista from yesterday is giving him the most malicious smirk Hux has ever seen. He decides to ignore him in favor of keeping his father from blowing a gasket or two. 

“Yes, well, I learned from only the best. However, I did get your message last night regarding our meeting for the weekend.” Hux flips off someone behind him who is incensed about Hux holding up the line. Again. “As much as it pains me, I think that can be arranged.”

While his father says something in response, probably calling him a slew of obscenities for being sarcastic again, Hux goes to order, but finds that Barista Boy has already sent the cup on its way to being made and is waiting expectantly for payment. Hux gives him a wary look before handing him the credit card. The boy shakes his head and his grin almost looks…fond. Hux’s wariness only grows.

“Next time, pay attention to what you’re doing.” He pauses and then says. “Elan.”

Hux is pretty mortified and forgets to respond to his father, who has long stopped stalking. “I’ll call you back,” Hux says, hanging up the cell phone. He goes to bring his finger up like an upset grandma, but catches himself. He would never stoop so low. 

Barista Boy’s smirk returns as he makes an obvious hand gesture that says ‘now move along’. Hux glares and moves, but not before asking for the kid’s name.

“Ben. But I prefer Kylo.”

“I see. Ben, next time pay attention.”

“Don’t throw my words back at me,” he says, voice rising. But he cowers when his manager gives him a stern look from near the blenders. “And it’s Kylo. Not Ben,” he pouts. 

“Evan?” A voice calls suddenly. Hux sighs long-sufferingly as he accepts the drink from the same perky young black girl. Thankfully, it’s a coffee, and that’s all that matters.

He can’t help himself from looking at the black sharpie once more. This time it reads “Eh VEN” and Hux rolls his eyes. He takes a sip of the coffee and almost moans in pleasure. It’s what he needs. Before he leaves, Hux calls back over his shoulder. “Oh and Bean, it’s Elan. Elan Hux.” He doesn’t bother checking for Ben’s reaction as he leaves Starbucks, coffee in hand. 

~

Another week goes by when he notices his hands are beginning to shake. He hasn’t had coffee since Ben took his order by memory, and much to his chagrin, it seems he’s developed a sort of…caffeine addiction. 

Oh…how troublesome. 

Hux puts all his willpower into keeping his hands steady as he drives so as to avoid crashing. Luckily, he doesn’t feel as tired as the first couple of times, due to him and his dad getting really drunk off thirty-year-old wine over the weekend. After dinner at an expensive steakhouse, Brendol Hux invited his only son to his hotel room. They drank, they talked, Hux doesn’t remember much, and, frankly, he doesn’t really want to attempt to remember. Brendol left without any complaints, which Hux finds as a plus in his book, and life resumed normally.

Except for this damn caffeine addiction he’s suddenly acquired. He knew stepping inside the billion dollar corporation would turn him into another eager husk to drink the poison they dish out, knowing damn well it’s a drug of its own. Legal drug dealing if he’s ever seen it. 

He’s truly angry at Starbucks, but mostly he’s angry at himself for falling into the pit like the rest. Especially since Ben the Barista Boy has come to haunt his dreams. Oh, yes, out of everything that he could remember about that weekend, a dream comes to the forefront in the form of tangling limbs, heaving breathing, and an erection that he scowled at upon waking up. 

He did say the boy was weirdly attractive. Not his fault his dick has a thing for tall boys with long black hair and cocksucking lips. Or the fact that the kid is probably ten years his junior or more. He always did like them young. He’s actually secretly hoping Ben won’t be working today because he’s sure he’ll go a deep shade of red – out of anger or arousal he’ll never know – thanks to his ridiculously pale skin. 

Yet when Hux walks in, attire proper and prim for a business owner, he feels like he wants to die. Of course Ben is there. And of course his hair is tied back in a small ponytail today (how his manager let him keep it down in an establishment like this is beyond him), making it so that his face is on full display, including all the beauty marks and young adult acne. 

“Do you live in this damn place?” Hux asks immediately as he becomes the next person in line to order. Ben scowls at him.

“Of course I don’t. You’re stalking me, clearly.”

“Clearly? I’ve shown up three times. And I have a life.”

“By your ridiculously expensive suit, gelled hair, and premature forehead lines, you don’t have a life.”

“Why you little--!” 

“Please, sir, you’re holding up the line. Can I get your order?”

Hux keeps himself from literally growling as he says. “Coffee. Venti. Hold the purposeful name misspellings.”

That causes Ben to huff under his breath, a smirk playing across his thick lips. Hux has to tear his eyes away from them or else risk losing his carefully put together composure. Although Ben has been testing that quite a lot as of late. Fucking brat. 

“How is it spelled?” he asks, sharpie poised over the cup. 

“E-L-A-N,” says Hux. 

“Got it.”

Hux fully expects five minutes later for the barista to call his name incorrectly, but when they do in fact call him Elan, he gives a confused look to Ben who shrugs innocently. 

When he accepts the drink with a curt thank you, he really can’t help himself from looking at the writing. It’s become habit now. And he has trust issues. On it, the black sharpie spells ‘E-L-A-N’, dashes included. This time, Hux feels laughter bubbling deep in his chest, and he barks a loud laugh. 

When Hux and Ben exchange looks, Ben blushes and rushes away from the cash register into a back room, leaving another barista to step in for him. Hux doesn’t think about it too much as he returns to his car, immediately feeling his hands begin to settle above the steering wheel of his car after his first sip. 

After another dream starring Ben the Barista Boy that was much more explicit than the first and left Hux with a distinct wet spot on his boxers, Hux devises a strategy. Clearly, he’s sexually attracted to Ben, would love to get his hands under that ridiculous Starbucks apron and unexceptional work attire, leave marks and suck bruises into places that will make Ben remember him years down the line. 

Maybe it’s the coffee that’s making him delirious for this boy.

He dismisses that thought immediately after it appears. How ridiculous is that?

~

It takes him another week and another coffee drought to come up with the perfect strategy to get Ben into his apartment for a tumble in the sheets. Planning, strategizing, and ordering are probably the top three in his life skill set. It’s what makes him a good boss. And what makes it easy for him to find bed partners. He’s never been one for relationships. Too much of yourself becomes open in a way that extends beyond quick bedroom intimacy. Hux hates that. 

But the plan is perfect. When he shows up for coffee, he’s going to ask for the cup and sharpie so that he can properly write his name on it. But when he gets the cup, he’s actually going to write his phone number on it and pass it back to Ben. When Ben sees this, he’ll probably blush and discreetly hide it before giving Hux a new cup that will actually contain his coffee. Hux won’t say one word as this whole ordeal plays out. He’ll set the bait and let Ben walk into the trap on his own.

It’s perfect.

Except…when he writes his phone number down and passes it to Ben, Ben laughs, head falling forward, hair cascading forward to completely cover his face like curtain drapes. 

“Sorry, I’m not a sugar baby,” Ben says as he hands the cup back to Hux, still giggling. 

“I-what?- that’s not…what are you even saying? That’s not why I gave you my nu—“

“You like them young, don’t you? I can read it all over your face. It’s the loudest thing about you, besides your actual mouth,” he comments nonchalantly, like he isn’t sitting there practically psychoanalyzing Hux. “If you want to get my attention, don’t write your number down on a Starbucks cup. You can do better, Elan.” Then he winks and smirks at Hux before making his cup of coffee.

A customer behind Hux, a middle-aged lady, taps him on the back with her finger. “He’s got a point. Who even does that?”

“Piss off, lady,” growls Hux as he steps to the side. His phone rings then, and he sees it’s his secretary, sounding very stressed and worried. He doesn’t bother acknowledging anybody as he tries to placate her while grabbing his coffee. After he hangs up on her because she’s starting to stress him out over something that can actually be easily rectified, it takes him a moment to realize he didn’t look at the cup for his name. 

It reads: “I’m off at noon.”

Despite himself, Hux starts to smile, but then scowls, nearly tossing the coffee out the window. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! Hux failed at luring Ben into calling him and now Ben has all the reins. Hux doesn’t like it at all. 

“Fucking brat,” Hux whispers angrily before pulling out of the parking out. 

Someone clearly must want Hux to suffer because the meetings that were supposed to extend into his lunch break today mysteriously canceled last minute, and now he’s left with a free one-hour lunch break. Technically longer if he wishes to indulge since he doesn’t have any obligations until two. He makes it a whole ten minutes into the break (which really just consisted of Hux staring at the cup and drumming his fingers in a rhythmic manner on the desk) before he makes a decision.

As he’s pulling into the Starbucks parking lot, he can see the dark shock of hair near the entrance. It’s blowing in the slight breeze, covering portions of his face. Hux finds himself smiling slightly to himself when Ben swats at it, eventually taking a large hand to push it back and away.

He honks and makes a big show of his Cabriolet. Ben’s head immediately snaps to the sound. When they make eye contact, he can see Ben visibly swallow and fidget, tucking some hair behind his ear, head down, as he walks to the car.

“Do you have to be so obvious?” he whispers angrily to Hux as he gets in the passenger seat. He’s carrying some type of messenger bag and his ridiculous Starbucks apron is nowhere on his body. Even the visor is missing. 

“Of course. It pisses you off and embarrasses you,” Hux says.

“Just drive, please. I want sushi.”

“Sushi? Why on Earth would I get sush—“

“Because this is a date. And as the honorary datee, I declare that I want sushi. On you of course.”

“Careful, Ben. I can easily take you back to that postulate of a company and never return.

“No you won’t,” Ben says. “I’ve seen the way you look at my lips.”

In response, Hux turns in his own lips, making a nasty looking frown. He doesn’t respond and Ben ends up smirking next to him. About halfway through the trip, Ben gets tired of Hux’s classical opera and turns it to a rock station.

Some kind of angry-sounding, yelling man mixed with someone rapping in between comes on and Hux scowls.

“What the hell is this garbage?”

Ben looks offended as he turns it up, bouncing his head to the beat of the drums. “This garbage is Linkin Park. Only the best band to ever exist.”

“The singer sounds like he needs a humidifier or something. Turn it off before I kick you out of the car.”

“You won’t kick me out of the car, Elan.” The music gets even louder, the bass thrumming through Hux’s body.

“I will. And it will hurt. Turn it off. Also, it’s Hux, not Elan.”

Hux gives Ben his patented steely glare that he gives to his most petulant employees, and Ben easily folds like a wet towel to the onslaught. They agree to settle on a Top 40 station for the rest of the drive. Ben doesn’t mention the last name declaration thankfully. 

When they arrive at the only sushi place Hux knows of, Ben makes an approving sound in the back of his throat that goes straight to Hux’s dick. He wills himself not to blush, knowing it’ll be dead obvious, but finds it useless when Ben turns to look at him and nearly spits trying to hold back a laugh.

“You’re so red. Like a tomato.”

“Shut up,” Hux snaps, getting out of the car and slamming the door. He winces and rubs the front in apology. 

Inside, the atmosphere is very quaint and inviting. It’s fairly lit, it’s pretty busy, and there’s Asian motifs and decorations all over. Probably nowhere near authentic for California but it will do. They’re seated by a petite Asian woman who is really nice and bubbly. 

As they look over the menu, Hux struggles with coming up with conversation topics. He’s not one for…bonding. It’s one of the reasons why he dreads his visits with his father. All he can think about is work and his plans to rule over the largest conglomerate in the world. He’s never been good with dates. Never has.

And it seems Ben isn’t fairing any better. The boy shuffles his feet and picks at a scab on his forearm as he waits for the sushi. In this low-lighting with just a bit of sunshine coming in through the high glass windows, he can’t help but continue to reflect on the fact that Ben is extraordinarily beautiful. 

But he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t need to let his guard down. Ever. 

The silence is now approaching the level of uncomfortable and Hux is about ready to bolt. But something about Ben is keeping him rooted to this comfortable booth seat. If only he can just…speak.

“So, how is it working at Starbucks?” 

Great. CEO Elan Hux with two different business degrees and is worth more than what this boy will make in his entire life and that’s what he follows up this date with. Brilliant.

Ben just lifts one eyebrow in response. He stuffs a sushi roll into his mouth with his chopsticks and says through his mouthful. “Fine. It’s money.”

“Ah. Yes. I know all about that.”

“Starbucks?”

“No. Money.”

“Oh, right. Your overpriced suits are a pretty dead giveaway. Where do you work again?”

“Starkiller Corporation,” Hux says. “We specialize in making and distributing some of the latest technologies, second to that of my father’s business over in Great Britain.”

“Are you…?”

“CEO? Of course. My father didn’t raise an incompetent child.”

“Like a lowly barista boy?” Ben snarls, stuffing two sushi rolls into his mouth and avoiding eye contact with Hux. 

“Oh for God’s sake—No, not like a barista boy. You’re young. Everyone needs a place to start out.”

Ben chuckles humorlessly. “Yes. We can’t all be given special treatment by rich fathers where opportunity and privilege is presented to us on a neat silver and diamond encrusted platter.”

Hux takes his fork (he can’t stand chopsticks) and slams it on the plate, jostling everything around him. Nearby patrons give him a look that he returns back in fervor and contempt before turning it onto Ben.

“How dare you accuse me of being spoiled! I have went through Hell and back in schooling and training to get to where I am now no thanks to anyone. Not even my rich prick of a father gave a shit about me except how much money and status I can churn out for him. So if you don’t mind, I’m ending this conversation now and leaving you ungrateful brat.”

Hux stands up and throws the napkin on the table. He’s about to walk out on the bill, but decides last minute to pay it. Sushi buffets can be really expensive and he knows this boy can barely make enough for a bus pass. 

Before he can get back to his car, he’s suddenly being crowded up against the side by a surprisingly thickly muscled Ben with a lustful stare. 

“You’re really hot when you’re angry, you know that?”

“What the Hell are you doing? Release me at once.”

Ben only retaliates by aligning their hips together, faces inches from Hux’s own. Hux bites his bottom lip and places his hands on Ben’s shoulders. He does a weak attempt at pushing Ben away, and only succeeds in clutching Ben’s shoulders tightly in his hands. 

“I’m bad at dating aren’t I?” Hux says, then inhales sharply when he feels Ben’s lips hovering around his neck. 

“Mmm. But I bet you’re good at fucking.”

“Then why force me to take you on a date? Why not just ask me to fuck you?”

“Because I was hungry.”

Hux this time really does shove Ben away, but Ben merely shakes his head to rid his hair from his face, smirking. 

“You’re still a fucking brat.”

“I know. But I know what I want.”

Hux goes to open his car. “And what to do you want, Ben?”

“You, Hux.”

Hux can’t say no to unattached sex. They’re in his car in record time, driving down the highway to Hux’s apartment. He reckons he has maybe forty-five minutes before he’s due back at work, and at least a fifteen minute drive if he speeds.

“When are you due back at work?” Ben asks from the passenger seat, one hand on Hux’s thigh that’s creeping slowly towards its destination. 

“Uh,” Hux chokes out, the pressure building behind his dress pants. “Forty-five minutes. Fifteen minute drive if I break all traffic laws.”

“Good. Plenty of time, then.”

The boy’s confidence is astounding if he thinks he can make Hux come in that amount of time. Hux sometimes takes longer than that when he’s masturbating. But Hux knows very well that if he can’t finish, he can make Ben come twice as early. It was one of his special skills in college. 

Maybe he should amend the top three life skills of planning, strategizing, and organizing he thought of earlier to strategizing, making men come all over themselves in record time, and organizing. 

Ben is relentless in driving Hux insane with his touches. Sometimes they’re rough and perfect, and other times they’re soft and teasing. They all leave Hux feeling like a live wire on the edge. He wishes he can reciprocate but it’s his one rule in life to always drive with both hands on the wheel, so instead he finds he’s gripping the steering wheel, white-knuckled and straining. He doesn’t dare glance over at Ben, knowing he’ll see those full lips pulled into a cocky smirk. 

He’s about ten minutes out from his apartment when he feels the button of his dress pants pop from its holder. He wills himself not to react as Ben slowly drags the zipper down, exposing the black of his boxers underneath.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Hux calmly says. When he looks to Ben with the intent of glaring at him until he withers, all he finds is the most beautiful, lustful look Hux has ever seen on a human being. Ben’s hair is windswept and messy from the top-down convertible; his eyes are large and glistening brown in the sunlight; he’s biting his lip as he stares down at Hux’s crotch. Hux feels himself redden and scowls. 

Without replying, Ben deftly applies clumsy fingers to Hux’s erection, rubbing the length from the outside with slow teasing touches. Pinpricks of pleasure shoot across Hux’s body, making his toes curl against the car pedals. 

“I want this,” Ben says eventually. “Inside me.”

Hux suddenly slams on the brakes, the smell of burnt rubber evident around them. He holds onto the steering wheel even harder as he says, low, “Of course you do. Knew you were a bratty bottom from the beginning.”

Hux hears the hitch in Ben’s breath and smirks to himself before continuing. “You love cock don’t you?”

“Yes,” Ben replies breathily, eyes still firmly glued to Hux’s crotch. 

“No. You love my cock.”

Ben nods, putting more pressure against Hux’s dick. Cars are honking behind them. Hux doesn’t care.

“Say it,” he demands.

“I love your cock, Hux. I really do.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside me.”

“Where else?”

Ben swallows thickly, stuttering. “In m-my mouth. Want a-all of it in my mouth.”

Hux notices Ben is starting to lose his cocky confidence from before, starting to fall into the natural order of things – Hux giving orders and Ben obeying them. Not only obeying them but wanting to obey them. 

“Zip me up and put your hand back in your lap. You’re too greedy. Greedy boys don’t deserve their treats.” 

Hux is more than pleased when Ben does as he’s told, and Hux begins driving the car again. His whole body on fire. The adrenaline is coursing through his veins making everything much more intense. He knows sex with Ben will be the best he’s had in a while. He can feel it in the way his hands twitch with the need to touch and the way his dick still steadily pulses. 

The slam of the apartment door and the click of the lock is music to Hux’s ears. He crowds Ben against the door, noting that he’s only maybe an inch or so taller than Hux. He runs a hand through Ben’s thick black hair, petting it for a moment, then scowls as he grabs a handful of locks and tugs. Ben’s knees bend willingly and he whimpers at the contact. Hux hums. 

“Good. Very good,” Hux says. “One thing I love about being the CEO of a business is that I am above everyone else. I am above them in an office and I am above them in rank. I tell them what to do and they listen. And when they don’t listen, they suffer the consequences.”

Ben licks his lips, hands slowly coming up to hug Hux’s elbows for support.

“Now, you’re going to listen to me, correct?”

Ben can’t nod with the force of Hux holding his hair, so he squeezes Hux’s elbows tighter and whines. 

“Good.”

Then Hux is finally kissing Ben, taking those lovely lips he’s caught himself staring at from the very beginning to his own. Ben can’t move an inch with the way Hux is holding him against the door, licking into his mouth with fervor and purpose. Ben submits so willingly that it makes Hux’s head spin. He moves his hands along Ben’s body in an almost questing manner, feeling the muscles bunching and tensing. Hux notes sort of gleefully that Ben is much larger in stature compared to him as he begins to strip Ben of his work outfit. 

When beautiful pale, soft chest is revealed to him, Hux notices the surprisingly squishy pecs and places both palms against the mounds. He squeezes, trapping nipples between fingers in the process. Ben moans directly into his mouth. “Do that again. Please.”

“Beg,” Hux growls.

“Please, Hux.”

It’s not enough but it’ll do. Hux squeezes harder, pushing them together as he rubs his thumbs over taught pink nipples. Ben is intoxicating in every way. Hux thinks Starbucks caffeine isn’t the only drug trap he’s fallen into. 

Ben begins clawing at Hux’s suit jacket, tugging the garment like it’s completely offensive to him. Hux with disgruntlement pulls his hands away from Ben’s chest to remove his jacket. He slaps Ben’s hands away when they try to reach for the crisp white shirt underneath. 

Ben begins begging again and Hux nearly loses it right there.

“Please Hux. I can’t-I can’t hold on. Need your cock somewhere, anywhere. Fuck, please.”

Without further ado, Hux drags Ben into his bedroom, snapping his fingers to point to the bed. Ben tentatively sits down at first, feeling the soft expensive silk beneath his hands. Hux watches with crossed arms as a glint appears in Ben’s eyes before he shuffles himself to the middle of the bed. He lays himself out, spreading his legs as much as he can within the confines of his tight jeans. He smirks and shifts when Hux inhales at the sight, heart hammering against his ribcage.

“Brat,” Hux says, smacking Ben’s hand away when he sees it reach for his jeans.

Ben is a wonderful sight on top of Hux’s bed. His hair is pillowed around him in the mockery of a dark, corrupted halo. His face is slightly pink from arousal, lips kiss swollen. The beauty marks stand out starkly in the light of the bedroom. Hux runs a hand from Ben’s navel up to his neck. He circles his right hand around Ben’s neck, leaves it there. Hux stares at where his Adam’s apple protrudes and watches intently when the act of swallowing shifts the muscles there. 

“Up,” Hux commands. Ben sits up, arms coming up to wrap loosely around Hux’s waist. Shivers run down Hux’s spine when he feels Ben’s large hands caress up and down Hux’s back. Hux wastes no time in removing his work pants and underwear. He does nothing more than twitch his eyebrow when his dick hits air, keeping one eye on Ben who, for some reason, has decided to stare up at Hux rather down at the real prize. 

Hux doesn’t like that. Not at all. There’s too much intimacy and affection within that look, and he needs to nip that in the bud right now. 

“You see this,” he says, grabbing his dick and pumping it a few times. “This is for you. In your mouth. In your ass. You want it?”

Hux internally sighs in relief when Ben’s eyes break away from his face to look down at his cock. Ben hums and joins his hand with Hux’s, stroking and playing with the foreskin. Hux lets his head fall back as he soaks in the pleasure of that large hand on him. He’d rather have it in a large, wet mouth though. 

“Suck,” he eventually says, and Ben willingly bends his back to bring Hux into his mouth. He knows the angle is awkward and Ben’s back muscles will probably be sore later, but Hux isn’t really surprised when he finds he doesn’t care. Right now, Ben’s mouth is lovely on his heated flesh, wet and perfect in every way. Hux can feel the drool rolling down his cock, grasps Ben’s hair with both hands and pushes.

“Down.”

Ben does resist a bit, chokes. Hux lets him pull back to regain himself for a moment, but then immediately applies the pressure once more. So what if he wants to chase his own pleasure right now? It’s not like they’ll be having sex again probably. Knowing Hux, he’ll purposely go out of his way to a new Starbucks if it means not having to deal with the awkward encounters of the aftermath of a one night stand. 

Once Hux can feel himself hit the back of Ben’s throat, Hux lets himself moan. It’s overwhelming good. He’s nowhere near close to coming, but it still feels unbelievably good. Hux does release the pressure when he sees Ben’s eyes watering at the intrusion, and grudgingly lets the boy control the pace. He’d rather do it, but Ben did do a good job in deep throating him, and boys who listen deserve rewards. 

Hux is particularly sensitive along his head and frenulum, and Ben discovers this rather quickly. His tongue is a constant onslaught of fiery, rapid, hot pleasure that leaves Hux bucking softly into his mouth. Ben teases the slit with the tip of his tongue like a pro, and Hux can’t help but tip forward, one hand along Ben’s back and the other on his shoulder. He thinks, with a panic, that he might come sooner than expected if Ben continues like this. He can’t have that. Not without getting inside this boy first and making a mess of him inside. 

Hux growls and tugs Ben roughly off of his dick, then lurches down to kiss him, tasting himself all along the boy’s tongue. It’s heady and wonderful. But getting inside him is more important. 

“Get near the headboard. On all fours. I want your ass in the air and ready for me, got it?”

“Yes,” Ben says breathlessly. “Hurry.”

Hux slaps his flank in reprimand. “Don’t tell me what to do. You will get into position and do what you’re told.”

This time Ben nods in understanding, eyes downcast as he shuffles into position. He removes his shoes, socks, pants, and underwear before getting down on elbows and knees with his ass in the air. It’s not a particularly good-looking ass, at least compared to other’s Hux has seen, but it will do. His dick doesn’t care at this point. 

Hux takes his sweet time gathering his strewn about clothes and placing them in their respective places, including his socks and shoes. Meanwhile he can hear Ben shuffling and whining from the bed, and Hux can’t help the feeling that shoots through him at hearing those sounds from the boy, knowing that Hux is making him act like this. Nothing more than a needy greedy hole for Hux to use. 

When Hux deems everything acceptable, he locates the lube and condom from the dresser. 

“Do you think you’ll be prepped properly if I only give you two fingers?” he asks, rubbing a hand up and down Ben’s right thigh.

“W-why?” 

“Because I don’t think I can wait much longer. And don’t you think me being inside you faster will help ease,” Hux reaches for Ben’s dick and gives it one rough tug, “this?”

Ben bucks and nearly howls, having not been touched there since they’ve began this whole encounter. “Yes, yes, yes. Please right there. Touch me there again, please, Hux, please. I can take whatever you give me please just get inside me.”

Hux can’t help himself when he chuckles. The boy is so willing, and he can’t believe that these pleads are coming from such a snarky, bratty mouth. Hux can sense deep anger within the boy, but he can also sense a need to please others, to be the best he can be. It’s something Hux knows all too well, actually.

He lubes up one finger first, teases the rim, then pushes inside. Ben is wonderfully tight and hot as to be expected, and Hux watches greedily as his finger gets sucked in. He knows it’s going to feel good around his cock here soon. 

He isn’t particularly slow nor fast in his fucking; he doesn’t allow much time for Ben to adjust to the new intrusion in his body before pushing the digit in and out, making small circles to stretch. Ben is a complete wreck, legs twitching with the stimulation, hair sweaty with strands stuck to his forehead and neck. Lips still beautifully red and swollen. Hux does mourn the loss of potentially not getting his hands on this beautiful boy again for a moment, but quickly shoves that away as he adds a second finger. He scissors the digits around, trying to open him up as best as he can. He doesn’t particularly want to hurt Ben necessarily, but he’s also aching terribly to be inside him. His want outweighs Ben’s complete comfortableness at the moment.

Once he deems Ben stretched enough, Hux rips open the condom and adds more lube to it. Then, because he can, Hux places a hand on the back of Ben’s neck and pins him there as he enters him. In one long push, Hux allows every inch to be enveloped in tight heat, and groans loud at the feeling. Hux usually tries to keep himself quiet during sex (it isn’t really necessary to be obnoxiously noisy), but sometimes the process is just too overwhelming for him to stay quiet. And this is the one time it happens.

He doesn’t give Ben any time to adjust before pulling back and slamming back in again, yelling when Ben clenches around him. Ben, too, is making pitiful noises below him, and Hux smiles in triumph when he sees a tiny pool of spit starting to form on his pillow. 

“You’re so filthy,” he can’t help but say, punctuating this with another particularly hard thrust. “Drooling on my cock. Lube dripping out of you. Sweaty and disgusting.”

“I’m filthy for you, Hux. Only for you.”

Hux shakes his head, putting his left hand on Ben’s hip for leverage. “No. No you’re filthy for all the older men. You love when their cocks are inside you, spearing you, making you feel like you’re breaking in two.” Hux speeds up his movements, trying to aim for Ben’s prostate. “I can tell I’m not the only older man cock that’s been inside you. How old were you when you sucked you first cock? How old where you when you fucked your first cock? How old was he?”

“F-fuck. Y-you.” Ben is able to spit out, then swallows the obscenity up with a long moan when Hux grazes his prostate. 

“You probably didn’t even have your muscle mass yet. You were probably all long thin limbs and too big eyes. Nice cocksucking lips. Perfect for this men to pick up and fuck.”

Hux can feel it building in his pelvis now; his orgasm is going to be long and amazing. He can’t remember the last time the sex was this good. Maybe ever. 

Ben doesn’t say anything as he takes himself in hand. Hux allows it because he’s too caught up in getting off himself to properly tell Ben not to touch himself. Ben is furiously tugging, hand a blur, hips following Hux’s rhythm as he aches for his own completion.

“But I’m fucking you now, as a man. I’m probably going to be the best you have ever had. Those men won’t compare, will they?” Hux goads on. He needs to hurry up because he doesn’t know if he can keep up the coherent dirty talk for much longer.

“No. No they never will. Never, Hux. You’re too good…for me. So good.” Ben says, moaning loudly. Then he’s screaming, and coming, and Hux shouts because Ben is holding him like a vice. Hux releases Ben’s neck on a whim to clutch both hands to his hips, tugging him back to fully seat on his dick. 

He watches as Ben coats his hand and Hux’s sheets in his come, thick and wet and so much. It’s going to be a bitch to clean out later. But right now he’s circling his hips and he can feel his pleasure building to a crescendo. It hits and Hux is lost. He’s coming, hard, into the condom, imagining his come coating the inside of Ben instead of the rubber. He’s dizzy and hot all over, and just has enough wherewithal to collapse next to instead of on top of Ben. 

They lay there, breathing heavily for a moment. Hux is sweaty and gross and will probably need to do a speed shower before he goes back to work. Ben is practically glowing next to him, and it does pain Hux just a bit he’ll have to abandon this boy. No attachments. He knows better than to stoop so low. Attachments are what made his father turn cold and cruel. Hux is already cold and cruel, but at least he can blame it on something other than petty, useless sentiment. 

“I’m going to go take a five minute shower. I want you out of my apartment by the time I’m done.”

“What?” Ben says, picking his head up to glare at Hux. “How am I supposed to get home? I have no idea where the hell I am.”

“Take a bus. There’s one around the corner.”

At this point Hux is gathering clean clothes to bring with him into the bathroom. The stark nudity is bothering him a bit, but it’s much more practical do it this way and retreat to the bathroom. “I won’t ask again, Ben,” he says with a hard tone to his voice. “Get out.”

“Of course you would kick me out. I was only a fuck to you anyway, right?”

“Indeed. Relationships are not for me. You were attractive, I wanted you, I got you, and now I don’t. Now, for the last time, leave.” Hux disappears into the bathroom. He doesn’t hear Ben leave over the roar of the shower. It’s probably better that way.

~

It’s an early morning and Hux needs coffee. This route is familiar now that he remembers there’s a Starbucks nearby with one black-haired beautiful boy working there. As he slows to a red light, he contemplates the pros and cons of facing Ben again. But when he suddenly sees Ben walking on the sidewalk, Starbucks visor firmly on his head, hair in a ponytail, he pauses. As if by some weird magnetic pull, Ben turns and spots Hux in his Cabriolet. They stare at each other for a few seconds. He sees a slightly sparkle in Ben’s eyes even from here, and his decision is made. 

When the light turns green, Hux passes the Starbucks without ever looking back. He can get coffee somewhere else from now on.


End file.
